Something in a different direction…..

July 7, 2009

It’s interesting …. ever since I started writing short stories on this blog, the floodgates of my imagination have opened wide…..

Which brings me to today’s post….

Yes …. this will be a little dark — however, it will definitely not as dark as my last post…

I think….

Enjoy:)

———————-

I don’t know why I’m outside this place. It is definitely not the type of establishment that I frequent.

It’s run-down. The windows are stained with cigarette smoke. There are shingles falling off the roof into the parking lot. One of the two doors that serve as the entrance/exit into the building is hanging by one hinge.

And, on top of all that, the parking lot is full of motorcycles.

I sigh.

I usually wouldn’t be seen at one of these places. I’m normally at places where I can spend four figures on alcohol in one night.

But I’m in a bad mood. And when I’m in a bad mood, I have to pick a fight.

So, with great trepidation, I step out of my Lexus. I take a deep breath and slowly let it go. I adjust my windbreaker and walk through the broken doors.

———

At first, the initial smells that hit me are beer, sweat and smoke. Then the secondary smells strike — I can smell the grease in someone’s hair. I can smell the venereal disease that the guy at the pool table picked up two weeks ago from the bar skank in the corner. I can smell someone’s liver dying from cirrhosis.

I take a small step back and regain my composure. Eventually all these smells filter through and I begin my walk to the bar, passing the smirks, stares and points that come from the collection of misfits that are gathered in this place.

I take my place at the bar and order a beer. The bartender — a winkled old biker with numerous tattoos covering his arms, a long white stringy beard and dead eyes — gives me a cursory glance up-and-down, takes a glass, fills it and nearly drops it in front of me, causing some of the amber liquid to spill over the sides and onto the crumb-infested bar.

I nod, give him a small smile and take a drink.

It’s then that I notice that the noise in the bar — which was at an almost distorted pitch when I walked in — has been slowly scaled back in the five minutes since I’ve walked in.

My smile gets a little bit bigger as I hear the four sets of boots tramp across the floor and stop right behind me.

I turn around and instantly find myself face to face with four guys who look like a bad stereotype from a Hollywood movie. They’re dressed, head-to-toe, in leather; have shaved heads; are covered in tattoos; and have few teeth.

As they sneer and growl at me, my smile starts to get even bigger.

“Did you hear me f%$#*&?” the middle one — obviously the leader of this bunch of trogladytes — asks me, pushing the tip of his index finger into my chest.

I turn my head and look at each one of the four in front me. Then I turn around, grab my beer and drain it in one gulp. I take a minute, breathe in and out, and then place the glass gently on the bar in front of me before turning around to face this group of barbershop quartet rejects.

It’s at this time that I notice that the entire bar has gone silent … and that the bartender has his right hand directly under the bar.

I chuckle.

“What’s so funny f$%^&#?” the one in charge asks with a sneer on his face.

“You,” I respond. “Because you have no idea what you’re in for.”

The lead man ponders this for a minute, then reaches into his pants and pulls out a piece of metal. He hits a switch and a six-inch blade pops out.

“I’m going to gut you like a pig, bitch,” he says.

I look at him and notice that his eyes have started to get a little bit wider …. because he just noticed that my eyes have changed color …. and shape.

He and his buddies take a step back as I stand up — mainly because my body has been begun changing in length, and is stretching out.

At this point the smells that I encountered earlier are being replaced by other pungent aromas as the smell of urine, sweat and feces begin to permeate the air.

And why shouldn’t they? I do make a fearsome sight — standing at nearly eight feet in height, covered in brown fur, my eyes a bright yellow and feral in nature. My hands are now twice the size of a normal humans, and end in sharp claws. My newly-formed tail begins to swish behind me.

I let my tongue — which has also grown to twice its normal size — flick out of my mouth and run over my lips.

I look at the lead moron. His knife has fallen to the floor and he has dropped to his knees. A growing wet stain has appeared on the front of his pants.

I smile.

“So,” I growl. “You like to call people names? Well, I’ve got a name for you.”

“Dinner.”

———————

So that’s it. Thanks to everyone who has stayed with me to this point. Please feel free to send me any comments that you want on any of my last three posts. Keep smiling everyone:)

Novel recommendations: Dune by Frank Herbert; Presumed Innocent by Scott Turow; Up Country by Nelson DeMille; Six Easy Pieces by Walter Mosely.